Laetare Sunday: "Stress-free Enlightenment!"

Ode To Gaiety

Go gloom
Begone glum and grim
Off with the drab drear and grumble
It’s time
its pastime
to come undone and come out laughing
time to wrap killjoys in wet blankets
and feed them to the sourpusses

Come frisky pals
Come forth wily wags
Loosen your screws and get off your rocker
Untie the strait lacer
Tie up the smarty pants
Tickle the crosspatch with josh and guffaw
Share quips and pranks with every victim
of grouch pomposity or blah

Woe to the bozo who says No to
tee hee ho ho and ha ha
Boo to the cleancut klutz who
wipes the smile off his face
Without gaiety
freedom is a chastity belt
Without gaiety
life is a wooden kimono

Come cheerful chums
Cut up and carry on
Crack your pots and split your sides
Boggle the bellyacher
Convulse the worrywart
Pratfall the prissy poos and the fuddy duds
Take drollery to heart or end up a deadhead
at the guillotine of the mindless

Be wise and go merry round
whatever you cherish
what you love to enjoy what you live to exert
And when the high spirts
call your number up
count on merriment all the way to the countdown
Long live hilarity euphoria and flumadiddle
Long live gaiety
for all the laity

                                                                                  - James Broughton (Glees)

"How to Give Up Self-improvement"

I want to talk to you today about the importance of giving up self-improvement. This is one of our hardest tasks, as we train ourselves to follow the Buddha Way. In this modern age, we are met at every turn by new and tempting opportunities to improve ourselves. We are offered everything from workshops on how to be a better parent to classes in strengthening the quadriceps. We are so deeply habituated to this way of thinking that we do not even recognize it in ourselves. This is the great danger. How many of you first began to sit zazen with the hope that it would in some way make you a better person? For many of us it may take years of hard practice before we are completely sure that we have hoped in vain. Buddhism teaches us that everything always changes, but we must finally admit that it does not change for the better.

"But what's so bad about self-improvement?" you may ask. Perhaps you have disagreeable character traits or weak knees that interfere with your functioning in everyday life. You may be eager to give up an addiction to cocaine or a habit of constantly interrupting the conversation of other people. But the very first habit you must give up is the habit of self-improvement. You can worry about the other things later. There may be a time and place in your life for self improvement, but the zendo is not the place, and now is not the time. Put it off.

Giving up self-improvement is easier said than done. Each of us must walk this path alone, going nowhere. But as your teacher, I can suggest to you some skillful means by which you may at last break the habit of mending your ways, and I can offer you some guidelines by which you may measure your progress on this pathless path.

I would like to ask that you take two weeks of your life to devote yourself to relinquishing self-betterment. If you conscientiously follow the eightfold path which I here describe, I am confident you will be pleased with the lack of results.

1. As soon as you get up in the morning, stand before the mirror, look your reflection in the eye, and ask yourself ten times, "Who wants to be a better person anyway?"

2. Before going to sleep each night, tell yourself ten times, "Every day in every way I am getting less attached to self-improvement."

3. For these two weeks, withdraw from all therapy programs, yoga classes, harpsichord lessons, courses in wilderness survival, or other educational pursuits. There will be time to pick up where you left off, when you are free from the need to achieve.

4. For the duration of the program, do not follow any special diets. Make a half-hearted attempt to eat whatever is lying around the house forgotten. This is the time to use up the jar of cocktail onions, the stale crackers, the rest of those little silver balls for decorating cakes, and other such things you may find in the back of the cupboard.

5. Walk slowly in place for twenty minutes a day, while repeating monotonously, "There is no attainment, with nothing to attain." It takes a full twenty minutes for your body to register the fact that it is not benefitting either from an increased heart rate or the secretion of stress-reducing epinephrines into the bloodstream. This is an advanced practice, demanding constant mindfulness so that you don't go anywhere or get any exercise. At first you may need to check your pulse periodically to be sure that it stays the same.

6. Keep a chart on which you daily mark as high or low your level of attachment in the following areas:

Remember, you are looking for low attachment, not high achievement.

7. From the daily TV program guide, select the program that interests you the least. Be honest with yourself. Then watch this program with a glazed expression. More advanced students should tape the program on a VCR and watch it a second time.

8. Sit on a round black cushion and face the wall. Don't think about anything. Breathe.

If you will follow these instructions with meticulous effort, you will find at the end of two weeks that you have not only failed to improve, but you have given up the very idea of self-improvement, perceiving it at last for the hopeless task it really is.

I respectfully ask you not to waste your time. You may delude yourself by promising to, give up self-improvement soon, after you have stopped biting your fingernails, lost ten pounds, or learned to jitterbug. This is a trap. Tomorrow it may be too late–in the final stages of the disease, the sufferer loses all control and those around him find themselves hiding course catalogues and health-club brochures. Remember, you are perfect already, exactly as you are. In a manner of speaking. And if you were really perfect, you wouldn't have a friend in the world.

                              - Tofu Roshi (Susan Ichi Su Moon, The Life and Times of Tofu Roshi)

"The Scrolls"

Scholars will recall that several years ago a shepherd, wandering in the Gulf of Aqaba, stumbled upon a cave containing several large clay jars and also two tickets to the ice show. Inside the jars were discovered six parchment scrolls with ancient incomprehensible writing which the shepherd, in his ignorance, sold to the museum for $750,000 apiece. Two years later the jars turned up in a pawnshop in Philadelphia. One year later the shepherd turned up in a pawnshop in Philadelphia and neither was claimed.

Archaeologists originally set the date of the scrolls at 4000 B.C., or just after the massacre of the Israelites by their benefactors. The writing is a mixture of Sumerian, Aramaic, and Babylonian and seems to have been done by either one man over a long period of time, or several men who shared the same suit. The authenticity of the scrolls is currently in great doubt, particularly since the word "Oldsmobile" appears several times in the text, and the few fragments that have finally been translated deal with familiar religious themes in a more than dubious way. Still, excavationist A. H. Bauer has noted that even though the fragments seem totally fraudulent, this is probably the greatest archeological find in history with the exception of the recovery of his cuff links from a tomb in Jerusalem. The following [is one of] the translated fragments.

And Abraham awoke in the middle of the night and said to his only son, Isaac, "I have had an dream where the voice of the Lord sayeth that I must sacrifice my only son, so put your pants on." And Isaac trembled and said, "So what did you say? I mean when He brought this whole thing up?"

"What am I going to say?" Abraham said. "I'm standing there at two A.M. in my underwear with the Creator of the Universe. Should I argue?"

"Well, did he say why he wants me sacrificed?" Isaac asked his father.

But Abraham said, "The faithful do not question. Now let's go because I have a heavy day tomorrow." And Sarah who heard Abraham's plan grew vexed and said, "How doth thou know it was the Lord and not, say, thy friend who loveth practical jokes, for the Lord hateth practical jokes and whosoever shall pull one shall be delivered into the hands of his enemies whether they can pay the delivery charge or not." And Abraham answered, "Because I know it was the Lord. It was a deep, resonant voice, well modulated, and nobody in the desert can get a rumble in it like that."

And Sarah said, "And thou art willing to carry out this senseless act?" But Abraham told her, "Frankly yes, for to question the Lord's word is one of the worst things a person can do, particularly with the economy in the state it's in."

And so he took Isaac to a certain place and prepared to sacrifice him but at the last minute the Lord stayed Abraham's hand and said, "How could thou doest such a thing?"

And Abraham said, "But thou said–"

"Never mind what I said," the Lord spake. "Doth thou listen to every crazy idea that comes thy way?" And Abraham grew ashamed. "Er–not really ... no."

"I jokingly suggest thou sacrifice Isaac and thou immediately runs out to do it."

And Abraham fell to his knees, "See, I never know when you’re kidding."

And the Lord thundered, "No sense of humor. I can’t believe it."

"But doth this not prove I love thee, that I was willing to donate mine only son on thy whim?’

And the Lord said, "It proves that some men will follow any order no matter how asinine as long as it comes from a resonant, well-modulated voice."

And with that, the Lord bid Abraham get some rest and check with him tomorrow.

                                                                             - Woody Allen (Without Feathers)

SERMON

Just what the heck is it with this Time business?

We keep moving it around, shifting it twice a year. Forward here, backwards there. I know it’s just a measurement so we all don’t get lost everyday trying to find each other, and it is rather helpful in gathering people all together in one place at one, well, time, but I mean, c’mon: Daylight Savings Time? Who’s fooling who? (Or is that, Whom is fooling Whom?) There’s the same amount of daylight no matter how we might think to measure it! We could, you know, just adjust ourselves accordingly but NO, we have to make everyone move their clocks back and forth twice a year, causing temporary but sometimes profound confusion and even, I have been told, running the risk of messing up the Moon itself! I mean, it gets itself into this nice rhythm with all the water of our world, cruising comfortably around our planet, occasionally mooning the Sun (which it very modestly does only during eclipses so as not to scare the children), and then what do we do? We go messing around with time and change all the tide schedules and the next thing we know the Moon will get all discouraged and go hiding in the Earth’s shadow, pouting, and seriously considering flashing us with its Dark Side. And you know what will happen then, don’t you? Well, don’t you? Well, I will tell you what will happen. This . . . (excerpt from Dark Side of the Moon is played).

Meanwhile, whatever we do to our clocks and the Moon and our self-important schedules, the one thing that is going to come upon us this week no matter what is that most bewildering of quasi-holidays, St. Patrick’s Day. I mean, here’s what I have to say about that: Why? Do we do this for Swaziland, too? Or Nepal or Uruguay? I don’t think so. Sure, we’ve got Cinco de Mayo but that comes in, oh somewhere around, say, fifth on our list, with Oktoberfest lurking somewhere in-between. Don’t get me wrong – I enjoy sampling the fine and time-honored brewing traditions of both Ireland and Germany (but not so much Mexico because I especially enjoy the darker, more porter and stout versions just in case you’re wondering what the perfect gift might be) and I understand from my father that one of my great-grandmothers was Irish. So it’s not like I’m sitting around all morose and everything ‘cause I’d have to totally fake it while toasting a tradition I have nothing to do with. Not at all. In fact, I’m more legit than most of the green-beer swilling wannabes you’ll find flocking to the pseudo-Irish franchise bars this Wednesday. If you don’t believe me, then just think of all the Who’s Who invitations I have gotten through my email just this week alone in all sorts of categories. No, I’m just wondering: Why? That’s all.

Although I must say, this so-called holiday has created some wonderful and inspiring stories, probably more worthy of the snakes than St. Patrick but entertaining nonetheless.

For instance, there’s one of my favorites about an Irish priest who is driving down to New York and gets stopped for speeding (where else?) in Connecticut. The state trooper pulls him over and when the priest rolls down his window, the trooper smells alcohol on the priest's breath and then sees an empty wine bottle on the floor of the car (how careless!).

So the trooper asks most respectfully, "Father, have you been drinking?"

"Just water, Officer" replies the priest.

The trooper says, "Then why, Father, do I smell wine?"

And the priest’s eyes get all big and amazed and he looks over at the bottle and exclaims, "Good Lord! He's done it again!"

The Irish have always been a very spiritual people, especially its priesthood.

To wit, there’s the story of Father Murphy who walks into a pub in Donegal, and asks the first man he meets, "Sir, do you want to go to heaven?" And the man says, "I do, Father."

So the priest says, "Then stand over there against the wall."

The priest continues down the bar and asks a second man, "Sir, do you want to go to heaven?" And the man replies, "Certainly, Father." "Then stand over there against the wall with the other gentleman," says the priest.

Then Father Murphy walked up to O'Toole and asks, "Sir, do you want to go to
heaven as well?" And O'Toole says, "No, Father, I do not."

Taken aback, the priest says, "I don't believe this. You mean to tell me that when you die you don't want to go to heaven?"

And O'Toole says, "Oh, when I die! Why didn’t ya say so, Father? I thought you were getting a group together to go right now."

Which only goes to prove that one must bring both a aura of clarity as well as a strong sense of ambiguity to all things when entering into the spiritual life and marching down the road to enlightment. It is not easy. There are numerous challenges all along the Way.

The great Zen Buddhist teacher, the venerable Tofu Roshi, once gave a lecture at his zendo which he called, "Getting the grease stains out of your Buddha nature." He was working at the Next-to-Godliness Laundromat just down the street at the time.

He recommended certain soap products, and went on to say that "Life is like a washing machine – it is a transforming process. And like a washing machine, you do not always get out of it what you put into it. Contrary to popular opinion. There are always going to be some surprises."  (from The Life and Times of Tofu Roshi, cited above) 

Indeed, surprises are what enlightenment is all about! They abound!

For instance, just the other day I was replacing the text of the stewardship message on our congregation’s web site. Focused upon my task as any seeker after enlightenment and an easy way for web surfers to promise us money would be, I avoided the submissions analysis and the download edit, wondered momentarily if the default would cause an earthquake should I click its box, decided to forgo the automatic aliases (because I believe those should be very carefully considered) and although intrigued by the possibilities that might open up through the path settings I thought, "No! I am no slacker! I’m not following anyone else’s path OR their settings!"

So, I simply changed the text of the message and hit submit only to discover that in the Great Cyber Mystery of It All, the page could no longer be found through the link even though that same page was still there! It was! I could find it. – But then a Moment of Pure Understanding washed over me, the grease stains vanished, and I came to the realization that while no one else knew where the page was, I did! And I can share my discovery with anyone who has a completed and signed pledge card.

Does this mean that you must pays yer money to hear the transporting music of the celestial piper? that a punched dance card must be presented in order to enter the liberal kingdom of Heaven? that proof of purchase is required to obtain your Official Enlightenment Certificate? Of course not, and not at all! You just need to be certain we have someone smarter than me changing stuff on our web page, someone who’s not all about fuzzy poetry and vague mystical stuff. Keep that in mind over the next few weeks.

And what does that tell us? Well, it tells us that we always need to keep something in mind or else our mind will just keep messing with us – playing tricks without treats, letting memories sit on the foggy horizon of that strange interior screen upon which plays all the drama of our dreams, those just-out-of-reach recollections that refuse to come into focus, and those strange little fantasies that appear like pop-ups on your computer screen and – even though no one else can see them – make you look around real quick to see if anyone else did.

Such is enlightenment, or the lack thereof, and did anyone stop to think for just one moment that perhaps there is something to be said for the total lack of self-improvement being the best improvement of all? And we’re not talking about attaining anything here. No sirree, we are talking about total and unabashed non-improvement, the complete abandonment of the idea altogether, a letting-go of all letting-goes, in fact, the grandmother of all letting-goes, the mantra for which is: "No big deal." As the venerable Tofu Roshi said: "When you are enlightened, you will realize that you already realize that which you will realize when you are enlightened."

Could anything be more clear? Could anything be more dumbfoundedly inspirational? Could anything be more completely and utterly stress-free?

Well, in the immortal words of She Who Can See Russia from Here, "You betcha!"

In the meantime –

(and I know there are those of you who wonder, every time I use that word, "Why does he want us to be in a mean time? Shouldn’t we want to be in a nice time, or a gentle time instead? Or hold it just a minute, maybe he’s talking about the Middle Way of time, that mysterious point halfway between now and then? How are we ever to know?" And to those of you who wonder such things I say, "Of course, and please stop making me forget what I was going to say, okay?") –

anyhow, where was I? I know, right here! Of course! And so are you! and "I am he as you as he as you are me and we are all together." And isn’t it wonderful? Isn’t it marvelous? And this is the time, the time of our lives!

Which, of course, is always true – we are always having the time of our lives, we can’t help ourselves ‘cause there’s no way to get out of our time, just like we can’t help behaving. Y’know? Why is it that folks, especially parent-type folks (and you know who you are), are always saying, "Will you behave?!" when there is absolutely, positively nothing else to do? Thus do we all behave in time, ‘cause that’s where we are. And we are here. Goo goo gajoob.

So, having settled that once and for all, I hope I have set your mind to rest, but not too much to rest, ‘cause I really find it distracting when people snore in worship. I mean it’s one thing to gently close the eyes in order to enhance concentration (yeah, and like we don’t really know what you’re doing...), or to try and ignore the guy sitting next to you who keeps fussing with his cell phone, but then, after all, he is doing really well at Tetris and you suppose it doesn’t hurt a thing to lean over ever-so unobtrusively to see if he does indeed beat his previous high score – I mean that’s one thing. I forget what the other one is...or was...or will be....

And is that not the problem? These things get lost in time, and then They, They go and change the time on us. How is anyone suppose to figure anything out under these conditions? I am at a loss.

Wait, no.

I am at the end.

So thank you, and remember: never let any fundamentalist bully you about God. She obviously does have a sense of humor. After all, why else did She create fundamentalists?